


Weekend in the Cotswolds

by craterdweller



Series: New Resolves [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Chosen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1847770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craterdweller/pseuds/craterdweller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to A Shared Resolve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weekend in the Cotswolds

 

Rupert Giles spared a look away from the road to glance at his traveling companion. The unseasonably warm and sunny day had allowed him to put the top down on the little black BMW convertible. His mind replayed a memory from a happier time back in Sunnydale, before Joyce’s illness, before Glory, before Buffy died. He stopped his train of dark thoughts.  Buffy, for her part, seemed content to watch the scenery and let the wind have its way with her hair.  

She reached over and fiddled with the radio again before letting out a sigh. “God, why don’t you people have any decent radio stations?”

“Perish the thought that the stations play actual music rather than that noise you lot listen to,” he teased.

She stuck her tongue out at him and Giles laughed in response. “There should be a cd or two in the center divide that you won’t find too objectionable.”

The rest of the drive was made in a slightly uncomfortable silence. Both afraid to shatter the illusion that they had returned to their old bantering. Luckily the cottage wasn’t much further. Giles exited the car first and unlocked the front door. He found the kitchen well stocked and the rooms sufficiently aired. “Wow, the Council really didn’t spare any expense on themselves but thought nothing of leaving a Slayer to foreclosure,” Buffy said bitterly as she came up behind him. Giles closed his eyes and wondered not for the first time about the wiseness of his decision to bring her here.

“Buffy, this cottage was never Council property,” he sighed. “It belonged to my maternal grandmother.” He waited for her explosion of temper but she surprised him by saying nothing and walking outside. After a few minutes he looked for her outside. She was standing by the car, arms hugging her middle. A posture he had seen so often these last few years. One that he loathed.

“So, while Dawn and I were living off Doublemeat meatless burgers and wondering when the bank was going to throw us out of our mother’s house, you had a summer cottage in the Cotswolds? Nice to know where we stood with you.”

“My grandmother left this place to my uncle. He perished during the explosion at the Council headquarters. As did his two sons, either of whom would have inherited the place had they survived.” He stared at her, his expression hard.

“Giles, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I ...” She tried to apologize, but he angrily cut her off.

“That’s always your excuse, Buffy. You didn’t know. But you never asked. None of you did. But then, that was always my place in your lives. Unimportant, until you needed something.”

“That’s not true! And it’s not like you were ever the sharing type. Not until your past would come back and try and kill us!”

“This was a mistake.” He pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending migraine.

“What? So you want to leave? That’s something you’re really good at. I thought we were going to talk through our issues?”

He walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk, or boot as they called it in England. He removed his bag, removed a single key from the keyring and left the rest of the keys in the lock. “The kitchen is well stocked if you want to stay. Otherwise, take the car. There’s a map, but the road in either direction will take you to a well-populated town.” He slung the bag onto his shoulder and started walking away without looking back.

“Giles?”

He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

He shook his head in annoyance. “Never mind.” He started off again.

“Giles!” She caught up to him and grabbed his arm. She spun him around to face her, “Why are you so pissed at me? Why what? Talk to me, damn it!”

He shook his arm free of her grasp. “Buffy, I don’t have the energy to fight with you anymore.”

“Then lets not fight. Talk to me, Giles. I want to fix us. I thought we both did?” She looked at him uncertainly. He no longer looked angry, just defeated. “Please?”

He sighed. “Buffy, why is this so important to you? You no longer need a Watcher. What do you expect to get from this?”

“What? You think I want something from you? Well, that’s a great opinion you have of me there Giles. Selfish Buffy, only does things if it gets her something? Newsflash, I sent my boyfriend to hell when I was seventeen, I’ve died twice, and have lost everything I own, defending ‘this sorry world’ as you call it, so don’t stand there and judge me!”

He silently began counting.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You can walk away if you want, but I’m the Slayer.”

Hmm. She managed seventeen seconds. He figured she’d pull her “I’m the Slayer” defense sooner than that. He must be getting rusty in his old age. “You say I can leave, yet, you demand that I stay and work this out. Which is it, Buffy? Am I free to leave?”

“You want to leave? Leave me?” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Buffy, I don’t know. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want you to be my friend. I want you to like me again.” She sniffed.

“You’ve never wanted me to be your friend before. What’s changed? And I do like you, Buffy. I care very much for you. But …”

“What do you mean I never wanted you to be my friend? We’re friends. We’re more than friends.”  A tear rolled down her cheek.

Giles hated seeing her cry, but he wasn’t sure he could ride this emotional rollercoaster anymore. Particularly since Buffy had seemed fine with going their separate ways until she had overheard his conversation with Dawn. He sighed and offered an olive branch. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you stay in the cottage tonight? I’ll come by tomorrow around lunchtime. If you’re still here, I can take you around the grounds or whatever you’d like.”

‘If you’re still here.’ He’s expecting me to run away. And the cottage has multiple bedrooms. Where is he going to stay? “Giles, where are you going to stay?”

“There are other buildings on the property. Goodnight, Buffy.” He set off without another word.

A very dejected Buffy took her bags from the trunk and headed inside. The first few hours were given over to hot, angry tears of self-pity. When she had finally cried herself out, she tried to sleep but she only managed about an hour. Snippets of their earlier argument kept waking her. She decided to get up and explore the cottage. What it lacked in size, it made up in coziness. Buffy picked up a framed black and white photo from the top of one of the bookcases. The photo contained an older couple, a woman in her thirties and a young boy of about six. She smiled as she recognized her Watcher. His hair was curlier, but she’d recognize that smile with its dimples anywhere. So adorable. And happy. She looked closer at the woman who had her hands resting on Giles’ shoulders. That must be his mother. She frowned. I don’t know anything about her, not even her name. His words came rushing back. “But you never asked. None of you did.”  This time when the tears came, they were tears of shame. I’ve known him for over seven years and I don’t even know their names.

Giles hesitated at the cottage’s door. He’d acted like a right prat yesterday and he wouldn’t blame Buffy if she’d left. The car was still where he’d left it, but Buffy had never been comfortable driving, even in familiar Sunnydale. The cottage had all the modern conveniences like a working phone in the kitchen.  And they weren’t  too remote for adequate cell coverage, so she could have called Xander or Willow to collect her. He sighed. Might as well get this over with. He knocked. When she didn’t answer he slowly pushed open the door. He rushed to where she was sitting in front of the bookcase. She was clutching a picture frame to her chest and crying silently. Perhaps something had happened to Dawn or one of the others. “Buffy?” When she didn’t respond he gently laid a hand on her shoulder. That small gesture got her attention. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve been awful to you. Please don’t hate me, Giles. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He rubbed her back and spoke soothing words of nonsense until she calmed. “ Don’t cry, Buffy. I was a right pillock yesterday. I’m the one who should be apologizing. Please. I don’t deserve your tears. I’ve been a right bastard.”

“NO! God, no, Giles. I deserved to get yelled at yesterday. I’ve treated you like a doormat.”

“What? No, Buffy. That’s not true.”

“It is! After I finished feeling sorry for myself, I started to look around the cottage. I spotted this framed photo on the bookcase, and I just knew that I had to see it up close. You were adorable Giles, with all that curly hair and I’d know that smile anywhere.”

“And this upset you?”

“No! I got upset when I realized the woman in the picture was probably your mother and I never even knew her name. Because I never asked.”  She dropped her gaze in shame.

“Buffy. Buffy, look at me please.” He gently tilted her chin up so he could watch her expression. “You don’t owe me an apology. You’re the Slayer. You’ve enough on your plate without having to concern yourself with me. But, you’ve such a kind and generous heart that I sometimes forget that. I’m sorry that you had to remind me of that yesterday.”

“No! Oh, god, Giles. No! Please. I don’t want to be just the Slayer. You’re more than just my Watcher. I love you, Giles. Please.” She was crying again and nothing he did or said soothed her.

“Buffy?” He was baffled as to what he’d said to upset her. “Talk to me, please. I’ve upset you again. That was certainly not my intention.”

Buffy loosened her grip enough so she could look at him, but she still refused to let go. She feared that if she let him go, then they would quietly go their separate ways. And she definitely did not want that. She wanted them to be close again. She whispered, “I want to learn all about you. I want to ask the things I should’ve asked years ago. I want to know stuff about you that I know about Willow and Xander. Because you are my friend, Giles, even if I haven’t always treated you like one.” She looked down, afraid that she was too late.

Ah. She’s feeling guilty. Something with which I’m all too familiar. Well, that will pass. Best to just go along with it for now. “Have you eaten?” At her puzzled look from the abrupt change of topic, he continued, “I thought we might pack a lunch and take advantage of the unseasonable weather.”

He doesn’t believe me. He probably thinks that I’m just feeling guilty or something and will be running off after the first cute vamp guy I see. Way to go Buffy. You’ve pushed him away so many times he’s finally taken the hint. Too bad it’s not what you really want.  “Sure, Giles. Let me just go and throw on something less pajama-y.”

He watched her go, shoulders slumped, head bowed. He heard muffled sounds coming from the bedroom she’d disappeared to and realized she must have called Willow. “Idiot!” She wants to be away from you, not for you to drag her on a picnic lunch.  He waited for her to come back out with her bags packed and announce the change in her plans.

“Ready?” She was lacking luggage and definitely dressed for a picnic. A picnic that he had not prepared convinced that she’d be leaving with Willow or Xander soon.

“Uh, what time is Willow picking you up?” He was facing towards the door, not looking at her, his hands jammed into his pockets and head bowed.

Her heart broke just a little bit more. He thinks you’re going to bale. Well, why wouldn’t he? She recalled of all the times she’d hurt him by pushing him away, refusing his comfort. He wasn’t like Riley or Spike, standing there making ultimatums like a spoilt child demanding her attention. Angel too, if she wanted to include all of his melodramatic trauma. No, he was just going to let her go, like he thought she wanted. It was all about her. Always about her. She bit her lip and prayed that she was doing the right thing.

Giles jumped when he felt her arms wrap around his waist and her head resting against his back. He strained to hear her as she spoke very softly, “I’m not leaving, Giles. I want to go on that picnic with you. I want you to tell me about your parents and your grandparents and what it was like here when you were a boy. I want you to tell me anything. Everything. Yell at me. Tell me what a bitca I am. Please, give me another chance to get close to you. I won’t mess it up this time.”

He turned in her embrace and returned the hug. “Only if you promise me you’ll tell me when you get bored.”

She scowled. “What do you mean, when I’ll get bored. Why are you so sure that I will?”

Chastised, he kissed the top of her head as they were still wrapped in each other’s arms. “Perhaps we should start over? Leave all of the emotional baggage behind?”

Buffy shook her head no. “I think that’s part of the problem, Giles. Neither of us are any good at talking about our feelings. As soon as it starts getting intense we back away for fear of destroying what we have left. But, I think our connection is stronger than that. We’ve been through a lot, and I know I still love you. Hoping that you feel the same?”

He chuckled and hugged her tighter. “There’s nothing you could ever say or do that would make me stop loving you, Buffy. I hope you know that.”

She squeezed him hard, forgetting for a moment her Slayer strength. She sheepishly let him go when he gasped for air. “Oops. Sorry. C’mon. Lets go have that picnic. And we’ll stick to the easy stuff today. I want to hear all about you. Do you have any idea how adorable you were as a kid?”

He blushed and reached for the photograph that she’d picked back up but she held it out of reach. “Not unh. I’m holding this hostage until you tell me about all of these pictures.”

“Bossy.”

“Damn straight. Now you promised me a picnic lunch. But I don’t see a picnic basket, Yogi.”

His forehead wrinkled at the forgotten reference, then he started to laugh as he recalled being forced to endure Saturday morning cartoons with Dawn. “Ah, yes, but I am smarter than the average bear.” With that, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the sandwiches, salads, and even a pie, that the caretaker had left per his instructions. Buffy giggled in delighted surprise, relieved to feel the chasm between them narrowing just a bit.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> cottoncandy_bingo prompt: Vacation


End file.
